DA Revelations Episode 6: Instinct
by AngelExposed
Summary: It's Christmas eve! Remy goes last minute shopping while the women in the mansion begin to feel concern for Remy's state of mind. Read and Review please! :D
1. Chapter 1 Part of It

**DA REVELATIONS**

**Episode 6 – Instinct**

**Chapter 1 – Part of It**

"I hate Christmas shopping," Remy LeBeau uttered under his breath. He was walking hand in hand with Rogue at the Bayville mall on the twenty-fourth of December, cursing under his breath every time someone shoved past him or caught him in the knee with their bags full of sharp-edged boxes. Christmas lights adorned the window of every store, images of Santa and reindeer and elves and candy canes were everywhere he looked.

Kids pleaded with their mothers to visit Santa's grotto while the mothers dragged their kids along desperate to get their last minute items in. Everywhere he looked he saw the 'sale' sign, everywhere he looked people were pushing and shoving past to get to the cheapest items.

"It's your own damn fault," Rogue smirked, "You shouldn't have left it so late...I mean...Christmas _Eve_?" she pointed out. "You're leaving it waaaaaay until the very last minute."

"I know, I know," he rolled his eyes at her, he glanced down at the one bag of items he'd bought – it included baby items, Kitty was still in hospital being so close to her due date now, and he at least wanted to have something to bestow upon her and the baby. "Chere?" he asked absently, eyeing up a jewellery store several feet away.

"Hmmm?" she asked, she was digging in her purse for something.

"What you want for Christmas?"

She picked a pack of gum out of her purse and opened it, "I dunno..." she shrugged, "anything."

"Jewellery?"

Rogue saw the store he was looking at, "from there? You kidding? That place is a rip off..."

"It's not a rip off when you're paying for quality," Remy uttered.

"I don't want anything for Christmas," she decided, she popped a piece of gum into her mouth, "I have all the useless crap I need. Last Christmas, Bobby got me a gold necklace that has literally _never_ been out of the box."

Remy frowned, "yeah, well...that's probably cheap gold. I'm talkin' perhaps somethin' worth something...diamonds...maybe sapphires...or fine jades...to match your eyes, hmm?" he asked, his mood lightened and he smiled at her.

She took a piece of gum from the packet and popped it into his mouth for him, she smirked, "how about not."

"Why not?"

"I have all the jewellery I need."

"You never wear anything I got you," he noted.

"Okay, fine," Rogue looked at him, "remember that silver cross you got me? With the engraving?" she asked, "one christmas...?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I remember buying it in New OrLeans..."

"Buy me a new chain for it..." she suggested. "You still have the pendent, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then that'll do," she kissed the tip of her finger then pressed it to his lips, he returned the kiss to her finger.

"How about an emerald ring...?" he asked softly as they began to walk again towards the jewellery store.

"I don't even wear ri--" she stopped herself in mid-sentence, she stopped in mid-step too. "Oh," she said, suddenly realising what he meant.

He stopped with her, "things have been...good," he pointed out, "and...maybe it's time we looked towards that...again."

"No," she said flatly, she began walking to the store window to look at the chains.

"No?" he asked, "not even a discussion?" he followed.

"I don't want to fight about this," she turned and looked at him, "We've been through this already..."

"Oh?" he asked. He knew exactly what she was speaking of, but playing stupid just seemed to work so well sometimes – especially when he particularly didn't want to remember.

"You arranged my wedding for me, my entire future and even where we were going to live – without telling me," she reminded, frowning. He could hear the emotional anger in her voice even though she tried to hide it.

"I was trying to be spur of the moment and romantic," he defended.

"Oh it was, up until I found out I was getting married in a chapel by an Elvis impersonator," Rogue folded her arms and looked at him.

"It wasn't an Elvis impersonator. It was a very nice woman Chinese lady actually," he corrected with a roll of his eyes. "But you need to understand...I was going away...and I was afraid of losing you – I wasn't in my right mind."

"I still think you're not in your right mind," she stated, she looked away from him.

"I'm a man in love – what man in love can you say _is_ in his right mind?" he raised an eyebrow and gave her a sexy grin.

"Scott Summers."

His grin faded, "You're biased – you had a crush on him in high school," Remy stared through the window at silver chains.

"That has nothing to do with anything," Rogue looked at the chains with him, "he's always in his right mind and when Jean says _no_ he doesn't constantly bring the subject up for discussion time and time again. You hardly ever see them arguing and if you do it's once a year."

"You sure about that?" Remy asked.

"Of course I am. Why would you even ask?"

"It's just...they been together a long time. There has to be _some_ conflict there surely."

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"They still have _sex_ don't they?"

"What does that have to do with _anything?"_ Rogue demanded impatiently.

"Sex life is pretty boring without conflict," he shrugged, mentally noting a chain that looked perfect to match the silver cross pendant.

"I wouldn't know..." she trailed off, her expression changing from angry to despair.

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, "you will..." he promised.

"Right," she said pessimistically. She made him sorry he'd ever brought up the subject in the first place, it had turned a 'fun' shopping trip into depressing.

"When we finally do...it'll be...hot," he breathed warmly near her ear.

"When?" she pointed out, "when I'm sixty and my powers finally weaken enough that you can actually touch me?"

"We'll work this out and we'll be able to...go all the way," he put it nicely.

"I'm sick of bein' stuck in this innocent kid-style relationship, Remy. Not kissin', holdin hands is about as intimate as we can get. If I touch you, it has to be over your clothes..." she said quietly so they couldn't be overheard, "I can feel your body close to me, but...I can't be a part of it...not like I know I should be."

"Wait, is this about what you want, or what you think _I_ want?"

"Why are you even asking?"

"Because you said _if you touch me_. Not _when I touch you._"

"Can't it just mean both?" she shrugged.

"Chere," he breathed, "I'm quite happy to keep things at an innocent level. As for what you want..." he brushed her hair back from her shoulder affectionately, "whatever you need..." he trailed off.

"I don't know what I need," she uttered.

"I do," he said, "You need to work on your powers with me. Then we can go from kid-style innocence to...well...more. Gotta walk before you can run..."

"Apparently I must be walking on a treadmill, Remy, 'cause I haven't gotten anywhere with this in _years," _The way she said it seemed to finalise the conversation, and he decided to let it go...at least for now.

He smacked her backside playfully, "c'mon, lets go get the necklace then grab some coffee."

"Okay," she tried to lighten her mood, she held his hand as they walked into the store.

Remy stopped at a jewellery counter, momentarily side-tracked by something he spotted on display. "Chere?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think...I don't know, do you think it'd be out of line if..." he trailed off.

"If what?"

"If I got Jessie something for christmas?" he asked, he looked at her seriously.

Rogue paused, "I...I don't know. Why would it be out of line?"

"I don't know...I still barely know the kid. You know how people around the mansion talk..."

"She's attached to you, maybe would be nice...since she likes you so much."

He sighed, "this...this is so goddamn hard."

"What? Shopping for people?"

"Christmas."

"Oh."

"She'd have been seven too, you know," Remy referred to his daughter, although he didn't feel the need to mention her name.

"I know..." Rogue brushed his cheek with her free hand, the suede of her glove was comforting and warm.

"I feel...guilty."

"For?"

"It's Christmas...and I'm thinking of buying the child my daughter will never grow up to be a gift..."

"I'd think...if she was watching you, and from what you told me you saw when you died, then she _is,_ that she would _want_ you to dote on that little girl. It's my understanding that in heaven there is no jealousy...or bitterness or any other negative feelin's."

"I know that...I heard it all before on that John Edward's show," he pointed out, "But...I still just can't help but feel like I'm..."

"You're what?" Rogue asked.

"Maybe unconsciously trying to replace my baby..." he looked distressed, "does that sound crazy?"

"No..." she answered sternly, "it's a rational thought. But you're not trying to replace her...nothing or no one _can replace her,"_ Rogue pointed out.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "Because...I'm scared that's what's happening here...and it hurts so goddamn much."

Rogue looked him deep in the eyes, let him see right through hers so that he'd know she was talking from the heart and not just from the head, "maybe this will sound corny, Remy..." she began, "But maybe...your heart can't heal because you have...all this love in you, this love that you can't give to your lil' girl...but then there's Jessie...who has very little experience of love, or of family. It's like...a girl without a father and a father without a girl...do you see where I'm going with this?"

"So what are you saying? That me and Jessie _need_ each other – that we should take those roles in each others lives?"

"Maybe," she replied. "I think your daughter would want it that way."

"Then why does it feel so wrong?"


	2. Chapter 2 Why

**Chapter 2 – Why?**

"Why can't I go to the hospital to visit Miss. Pryde?" Jessie Crowell asked of Hank McCoy. She was sitting up on the infirmary bed she'd been assigned to in the hospital wing. It was lunch time and there was a ham sandwich, an apple and a box of tropical flavoured juice sitting on a fold out tray for her.

"Because, dear, you were out in the very, very cold," Dr. McCoy replied, "and we want to make sure you don't catch a cold."

Jessie stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now, now, behave, and eat your lunch."

"I don't like ham."

"You've been listening to Kitty too much," Dr. McCoy noted. He was sitting at the small desk in the corner, he'd brought his laptop into the hospital wing so he could do some work while keeping an eye on the small child at the same time.

"Can I play solitaire?" she asked, gesturing to his laptop.

"Maybe later," Dr. McCoy said. Jessie thought she heard him say something – the last few lines were _like daughter_ but she didn't catch the first part. "Jessie...I can't find any records on your mom and dad," he said, he seemed sorry to be bringing the subject up.

"Oh?" she asked, she ate a tiny piece of crust off the sandwich.

"Your parents names were...?"

"Lucille and Jay," she picked up the apple and began to shine it up enthusiastically.

"Hmmm..." he scratched his furry chin and she watched him.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," he replied, he rolled his desk chair over to the bed, "can I ask you some questions?"

"Yup," she nodded, she took a large bite of the apple, deciding to skip past the ham sandwich.

He leaned on the bed, large arms folded on the edge, he lowered himself so he was lower than her. He did this a lot, and she was sure it was so that he wouldn't make her feel so small. Sometimes it worked, too.

"Do you remember what they looked like?"

"My mom and dad?"

"Yes," Dr. McCoy replied, "I know you were very young, but do you remember them at all?"

"Nope," she answered.

"Do you know what they did for a living?"

"Nope."

Dr. McCoy seemed quite discouraged by this.

"Is that bad?" she asked.

"No. You were very young when you lost them after all. I just wondered, is all," he answered.

"Is it important?" Jessie asked.

"Kind of," Dr. McCoy answered. "But don't worry about it."

"Can I get out of here for Christmas?" she asked, "I don't like it here, it smells like the orphanage bathrooms in here."

Dr. McCoy smiled his big toothy fangy grin at her, "maybe."

"Where is Mr. LeBeau?" she asked in a mouthful of apple.

"I believe he went Christmas shopping with Rogue," he answered.

Jessie considered this, then said, "are Mr. LeBeau and Rogue in love?"

Dr. McCoy chuckled, "very much."

"I can tell," Jessie said, "when they're together, they get all gooey eyed."

"Yes, I believe they do," he scratched his ear.

"How...do they kiss?"

"I don't think they do, darling," Dr. McCoy said, "but you know, that's not all love is about, don't you?"

Jessie shrugged, "I guess."

"You like Remy, don't you?"

"Yup," Jessie answered, "He's nice."

"It's good you like him," Dr. McCoy said, it sounded somewhat...mysterious.

"Why?" Jessie asked curiously, her interest now mildly raised.

"Well...with Miss. Pryde in hospital it'll be nice for you to have someone else to talk to," Dr. McCoy said, and he said it all too quickly it seemed rather much a lie – at least to Jessie.

"Miss. Pryde wants me to hang out with him a lot – I think it's 'cause she won't have time for me."

"No, no, no, of course not," Dr. McCoy chided. "She thinks you and Remy will be good friends is all."

"Why does she want Mr. LeBeau to look after me? Why not...Miss. Grey or...Miss. Munro?"

"I guess she thinks Remy is the best one," Dr. McCoy said kindly, he seemed as if he were avoiding saying something else though.

"Can I go upstairs and watch some TV?" Jessie asked.

"Not right now," Dr. McCoy replied, "I was wondering, perhaps, if you'd let me take a little DNA."

"DNA?" Jessie asked. She'd heard the word but she wasn't exactly positive what it was...or how the large blue Doctor intended to extract it.

"Yes," he produced a long handled Q-tip that he rolled down a rubber cap from. "What I would like you to do..." he said softly, "is to pretend you're brushing your teeth – except instead of your teeth, I want you to brush the inside of your mouth, with this..." he held it towards her.

"Just like a toothbrush?"

"Yes, exactly like a toothbrush."

"But didn't we do this a long time ago?"

"Yes, we did...but I'd like to do it again. Will you do it?"

Jessie shrugged, and put the thing in her mouth, she rubbed it up and down the inside of her mouth and across the inside of her cheeks.

"That'll do, dear," Dr. McCoy took it from her. He capped the thing, put it into a small cardboard box, then packeted it into a large envelope.

"What are you doing with it?" Jessie asked curiously.

"Oh, just a little research. Don't concern yourself."

His answer was enough to satisfy her question for now.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Kitty sighed as she sifted through the baby book for what felt like the one-thousandth time since buying the damn thing. It was about the only interesting thing to do in hospital since even in her private room, the television only had five very basic channels – two of which had bad reception.

"Still undecided?" came a familiar voice. She raised her head to see Jean Grey entering the room carrying a bag of mixed grapes.

"Starting to wonder if this kid will be at college before I name it..." Kitty sighed, "how high are the chances it can get through eighteen years without a name?"

"Not very high at all," Jean smiled. "Perhaps you should wait until the baby is born, when you look at the baby, you'll know."

"I probably should have just said yes when the doctors asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby – that'd have helped a lot in determining a name," Kitty sighed, "but I just didn't want to ruin the surprise..."

"I understand," Jean nodded, she sat on the edge of the bed, she placed the bag of grapes beside Kitty, "so...how are you?"

Kitty sighed, "terrible. Gassy, achey...baby kicking a hole through me. The usual. I can't wait to get it out of me..."

Jean smirked. "You'll pop any day now, I can feel it."

Kitty chewed her lip for a moment, "Jean...can you...like...sense the baby? Like Betsy could?"

"Yes..." Jean replied, "I can."

"What does it feel like?"

"Safe and comfortable," Jean replied. "Which is probably why it doesn't want to come out yet..."

"Yeah well it better," Kitty uttered, "I'd like to start the new year at least being able to fit into something from my wardrobe."

"The chances of that are extremely rare," Jean laughed softly.

"I know. I guess I can dream, right?"

"How is everyone at home?" Kitty asked.

"Jessie went missing last night...had everyone in a panic apparently," Jean sighed, "but don't panic...they found her."

"Where was she?" Kitty asked, her voice strained.

"Remy had found her at the southern wall on the estate. She'd tried to run away, she was stuck on the wall, she'd tried to climb over but panicked when she found nothing on the other side and became too frightened to climb down again."

"Oh my Gosh," Kitty put a hand to her face, worried already.

"When Hank and I arrived back from bringing you to the hospital last night, Remy and Rogue were just arriving home with her," Jean said softly. "Jessie was sleeping, but safe, and unharmed."

"Oh..." Kitty chewed her lip. "Why did Jessie try to run away?"

"I tried to find out this morning when she woke up, but she won't explain to any of us exactly why no matter how much we ask," Jean replied.

Kitty frowned, guilt began to eat at her. If it hadn't been for the mistaken labour, she'd have still been there to make sure Jessie was alright. "What about Remy?"

"All Remy would say is it was _his_ fault she tried to take off...but what he meant about it, I'm not entirely sure..." Jean answered. "Last night, I...felt such extreme sadness from Remy...a sadness so strong it was almost overwhelming. He _had_ been crying...I could see it in his face..."

Kitty sat up straighter, "oh?"

"I know the Professor's ethics on reading people without their knowledge..." Jean began, looking regretful, she swept her long red hair from her face absently.

"Did you read Remy?" Kitty asked suspiciously.

"Accidentally," Jean answered, "this morning...at breakfast. He left himself extremely open and vulnerable, and I was distracted and not tuning out very well. I heard his thoughts..."

"And?" Kitty asked worriedly, her sapphire eyes squinting.

"This...is is taking it's toll on him, Kitty. Every day he's comparing Jessie to the daughter he never got to see grow up and feeling guiltier about it...it hurts him...it's practically destroying him."

"Goddamnit, I tried to tell him last night, but...this...this pain..." Kitty tried to explain.

"I know the Professor and Hank don't think either of them should know yet until we understand more about Jessie's origins and how she ended up with the Crowell's before landing in the orphanage."

"I know that," Kitty sighed, "I've tried telling him _so _many times. But I always chicken out. I just...I can hear myself in my head and I know it's gonna sound absolutely one hundred percent crazy..." she picked a grape out of the bag and popped it into her mouth. "I can just hear myself telling him now. 'Oh hi, Remy. You have a daughter. We don't know how, or why. All we know is she matches your DNA. Happy holidays.',"

"It's been months and we've been unable to trace anything about her real mother. Hank is going to take another DNA sample from her to send to Moira," Jean helped herself to a grape, "they have more advanced ways of finding DNA matches – our DNA database consists entirely of mutants, but Jessie's mother was most likely human, whoever she is. Moira can access more than we can, if anyone an find out more, she can."

Kitty nodded.

"Is there a possibility that...he would know who the mother is?" Jean queried. "I mean I've seen Jessie's birth certificate – her mother is listed as Lucille Crowell – if we mentioned that name do you think it would ring any bells?"

"No, he'd recognise that name," Kitty said, "he knows Jessie's last name but he's never even had any suspicions about it, so I don't think he ever _knew _a Lucille Crowell."

"What about a one night stand with a married woman who's name he didn't know? This _is_ Remy LeBeau we're talking about. We know he's had a few women..." she pointed out.

"More than a few. But no. I tried to do the math," Kitty admitted, "Jessie would have been conceived around March 2003 – Remy was with the X-Men at that time and _never_ left the mansion grounds except for cigarettes."

"So you don't think he might have hooked up with some random woman during that time?"

"No..." Kitty shook her head, "He was still broken hearted about Rogue – and _hello, _he had already _gotten_ a girl pregnant by that point."

"Bella Donna," Jean remembered.

"Yeah," Kitty nodded, "she showed up on our doorstep that February two month's pregnant. On valentines day."

"When was her due date anyway?" Jean asked, "I can only remember Gabrielle being born prematurely around late June..."

"She was supposed to give birth around mid September I think."

Jean seemed pensive, and Kitty watched her for a few moments until the red haired woman finally spoke, "makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"Wonder what?"

"How things would have been different if Gabrielle hadn't died," Jean replied softly, "how _Remy's_ life would have been different. He might never have left...everything he and Rogue have gone through together since would have never happened."

"It probably would have somehow or other," Kitty shrugged, she touched her belly sadly, "I wonder if my baby's birth will affect him as much as being around Jessie has..."

"Don't worry yourself with it..." Jean patted Kitty's stomach.

"That's just it...I can't _stop_ worrying. Worrying about him...about Jessie...and worrying that this is all gonna blow up in our faces when he _does _finally find out."


	3. Chapter 3 Wrapping

**Chapter 3 - Wrapping**

There were boxes all over the bed. Some wrapped, some not. Sweaters, scarves, gloves and hats, jewellery boxes, novelty boxes with funny items inside. Ribbons, wrapping paper, scissors, tape, decorative bows. All strewn everywhere on the bed.

Remy's bed definitely didn't look like a bed anymore, but more like the wrapping counter at a gift shop. He sighed, he was sitting folded legged near the pillows, surrounded by all the Christmassy wrapping items. Somehow, he just couldn't feel the spirit of the season no matter how hard he tried.

The room was freezing. When he'd got back he'd found frost on the radiator in the room and felt that possibly Bobby might have been messing with the heating in there, so bundled up in two thick sweaters – which he hated wearing – and with a crocheted blanket draped over his shoulders he set to work wrapping presents, writing on tags, and trying to make everything seem beautiful despite he could hardly be bothered with the effort.

In fact, he felt he'd have probably been drinking straight from a vodka or scotch bottle if he didn't have responsibilities now.

He was very much distracted, trying to decide what colour of sparkling glittery ribbon to decorate a present for Rogue when he felt two small hands land hard on his shoulders, and the word 'boo' whispered joyfully in his ear.

Remy did jump, he definitely hadn't heard Jessie enter his room, and he definitely hadn't expected her to be running around the mansion when she was meant to be in the hospital wing. His eyes quickly scoured his bed for the present for her that was not wrapped yet, and he tucked it under his pillow as quickly as he could.

"What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"

"Uhm...don't?" Jessie asked as he turned towards her, her large eyes completely innocent, she looked away, but smiled imp like. He couldn't help but lose his frustration with her instantly.

"Remember in future," he warned.

"Sorry, I'm just so good at it," she sat down on a small patch of bed that was not covered by presents or wrapping items. "Who is all this stuff for?" she asked.

"Some of it is for Rogue, some for Kitty..." he trailed off, "something for the Professor and Hank..."

Jessie picked up a large purple bow which was glittery and caught the light beautifully, "I like this one."

"Purple is your favourite colour?" he asked, he began carefully cutting through the expensive holographic paper he'd bought to wrap Rogue's necklace with.

"It's the prettiest colour, apart from pink," Jessie shrugged, "don't you think?"

He shrugged, he supposed the colour purple was a nice enough colour.

"What's your favourite colour?" she asked, "do you have one?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "I like black a lot."

"Black isn't a colour," Jessie made a face.

"Is too," Remy looked at her.

"Is not. Dr. McCoy _says_ so. He says black is no colour, and white is every colour."

It didn't make sense to Remy and he didn't understand how that could make sense to the child but he went along with it anyway, "okay. I believe you," he gave in.

"What did you get Rogue for Christmas?" Jessie asked nosily.

Remy looked at her curiously, "why so interested?" he asked, he admired the way Jessie's tawny gold hair glittered in the overhead light, the way it slightly curled at the ends. He momentarily wondered if Gabrielle might have been blonde too, but then realised he was dwelling and tried to force himself out of that way of thinking.

"Just because," Jessie shrugged, she smiled.

"Once upon a time, at Christmas," he said, leaning behind Jessie to open the drawer beside his bed, there was a silver tobacco case in there. "Many, many years ago. I gave Rogue a present, when we first..." he trailed off, not really knowing how to put it to a seven year old.

"Fell in love?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly.

He smiled, and opened the tobacco case, "I gave her this Cross on a chain, which...got broken after a time...and the Cross got forgotten about..."

Jessie put her tiny fingers into the case and picked out the cross, "it has writing on it..."

"Yes, it's French," Remy answered, he opened the box with the silver chain inside, he removed it and watched it glimmering in the light.

"What does it mean?"

Remy took the cross from her and wiped it off with the sleeve of his sweater, "fill my heart with your love," he answered.

"It's pretty," Jessie said quite matter-of-factly. "So you're giving it to her _again?_"

"Yes, only this time, I'm giving it to her with the chain so that she can wear it again. It's what she asked for." Remy answered, he undid the clasp on the chain and slid the pendant onto it and held it up to see it dangling, both pendant and chain looked perfect together.

Jessie looked behind her into the drawer, curious to see what kind of things he would keep in a usually locked drawer. A small velvet ring box caught her eye and she picked it up. "What's this?"

"Oh that..." Remy took it from her, "it's nothing."

"Must be something in it if you keep it in a locked drawer," Jessie folded her arms, "Let me see it?"

He sighed and handed her the box, he didn't really feel like looking it or having to hold onto it anymore than he had to.

Jessie opened the box, which contained a beautiful ring with an intricate silver band, a tear drop shaped emerald was set between two beautiful rare blue diamonds. "Wow...this is pretty..." she whispered, admiring the sparkling blue diamonds set against the very clear emerald. "Was it expensive?"

"It would be wrong of me to say how much I spent on that ring," Remy replied, he wasn't sure the child knew the value of money enough to understand how truly expensive the antique was. "It's very old...it was made over two hundred years ago, if you can believe that."

Jessie raised her eyes at him, "it's for Rogue?"

"Rogue doesn't want it, mignon," Remy took the box from her, shut it with a hard snap and tossed it into the drawer, he pushed the drawer shut with a sigh of dejection.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated," Remy answered simply, "and that's all I can say. Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital wing?" he asked.

"Yes, but Dr. McCoy went to go visit Miss. Pryde so I sneaked out," she grinned, her four front teeth were small, and it made her adorable when she grinned like this.

He felt the familiar want to compare her smile to the smile he'd imagined for Gabrielle and tried to catch himself before he did.

"You don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Remy asked, he had placed the necklace in the box it had come in and he began to wrap it carefully.

"It's boring down there. And _lonely_," she pouted. "Besides," she added, "he's been gone for _hours and hours._"

Remy sighed and slipped the blanket from around his shoulders and draped it across hers, "here, if you're going to sit in here with me, at least huddle up in this – it's cold."

She held the crocheted blanket around her, "can I wrap something? I'm _bored!_"

"Hmmm..." he paused, "okay...you can wrap this..." he handed her a cream coloured cashmere sweater, "and I'll show you how."

"Who is this for?" Jessie asked, she began running her fingers across the fabric.

"Kitty," he answered.

"Oooh, it's so soft," she brushed the sleeve against her cheek. "But isn't Miss. Pryde Jewish?"

"Yes, she is," Remy sighed, "but she didn't celebrate Hanukkah this year," he sighed, thinking that perhaps Kitty had chosen to ignore celebrating to avoid painful memories of her parents deaths. "I wouldn't feel right giving other people presents and not her," he explained. "She doesn't need to celebrate Christmas to have a present, right?" he asked.

"I guess," Jessie shrugged.

"I have an idea," Remy said, he set aside the necklace he was wrapping for the moment, and began to cut a large square of silver holographic paper for Jessie to wrap the present in. "When we write out the card, shall we make it from the both of us?"

"Okay!" she grinned.

Together they set about wrapping the present, he showed her how to fold the sweater carefully, and the how to set it down just right so that when it was wrapped, the paper didn't crinkle. He let her tape as many ribbons and bows as she wanted to upon it until, although it was over decorated and nearly looked ridiculous, it had been made of her effort, and she was joyous to have been part of the wrapping process.

He let her sign the little card, and let her tie the string onto the ribbons with her tiny awkward fumbling fingers. He watched her, half between content and sad. It was strange how simply wrapping a present could give so much happiness to a child, and how sad it made him to think of Gabrielle and how she would never share that happiness with him.

Running footsteps along the hall brought him out of his sullen thoughts, and he raised his eyes to the door as Jean Grey arrived, her cheeks pink, she had tears in her eyes although Remy didn't think she looked sad at all.

"What's wrong?" he asked, he climbed off the bed, careful not to knock over any presents, wrapped or otherwise.

"Hank just called from the hospital..." Jean said, slightly out of breath, she hunched over a little, resting her hands on her knees.

"Is Kitty alright?" he asked, a sense of dread suddenly welling up inside of him.

"She went into labour two hours ago..."

"And?" Remy demanded, his heart pounding, terrified something might have happened to Kitty, that something had gone wrong.

"Baby boy, seven pounds exactly. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a full head of brown hair!"

Remy sat down on the bed, "for a moment there..."

"She's fine, Remy. Both of them are. Visiting hour is in about thirty minutes, so...if you're coming..."

"Of course I am," Remy said.

"Can I come too?" Jessie asked, she tugged on Remy's sleeve, "please?"

Remy looked at her, "that's up to Jean."

Jean sighed, "I...suppose...if you wrap up very warmly," she reached out her hand, "come on, I'll help you pick out something to wear."

Jessie hopped off the bed, excited and sparkly eyed. Remy watched Jean and Jessie disappear out the door and he sighed to himself. He was happy, happy for Kitty and that the baby had survived. He couldn't help but feel the reminders of his own baby being still born rush back to him.

_This is gonna be a very tough Christmas,_ he thought as he began to clear away some of the presents. _Very tough._


	4. Chapter 4 Instinct

**Chapter 4 - Instinct**

Kitty Pryde looked barely like herself, or at least she didn't look like the Kitty Pryde that Remy had known for years. Her hair was frizzy, and out of place, curled at the edges and framing her pale face. Although her cheeks were flushed, she seemed drained of colour and her eyes were dull and tired. She looked so much older than Remy remembered her. She'd always seemed still teenage-like even in her early twenties as she was, but now, she seemed so...grown up.

_Of course she seems grown up, she's a mother now,_ Remy thought, he stared at her for several moments, taking in this new vision of her, Kitty's transition from geeky but pretty teenager to a beautiful – if not exhausted – mother. It had almost been seamless.

She lay slightly on her side facing the door.

Jessie ran to her "Miss. Pryde!" she said almost desperately, like a girl who'd been separated from a mother for a very long time only to find her again.

"Hey..." Kitty said tiredly, she reached out an arm to the girl and she hugged her weakly, "I've missed you so much," she said softly, and she stroked the girls tawny hair affectionately.

"I missed you too," Jessie said.

"I heard you got in to trouble when I was gone," Kitty chided.

"Only a little," Jessie looked to the ground and stared at the laces of her Barbie sneakers. "Where's the baby?" she asked quickly to change the subject.

"A nurse will bring him in shortly," Kitty yawned, she raised her eyes to Remy, "Hi."

Remy moved over to the bed and leaned over to kiss her forehead, "petit, you look so tired," he said softly.

"I'm exhausted," she sighed, "But I don't want to sleep...is that weird?"

"Maybe," he smiled, he stroked her hair from her face tenderly, "how are you."

"Sore..." she replied, "and...sore."

Remy smirked, "I bet."

"What's the baby's name?" Jessie asked.

Kitty closed her eyes and yawned, "Caleb," she answered.

A nurse entered into the room, a bundle in a white blanket with a tiny little white cap in her arms. "You have quite a lot of friends outside," she said, impressed.

"They're not just friends," Kitty sat up slowly, drawing in a sharp breath of pain, "they're family."

The nurse placed the tiny bundle in Kitty's arms. He seemed almost too small to weigh a whole seven pounds.

Remy stared at the baby boy, Caleb Pryde, not even six hours old. Eyes shut tightly, nose button like and pink mouth puckered. Tiny little hands with tiny perfect fingernails, puffs of brown hair stuck out from beneath the white fleece cap on his tiny perfect head. Kitty spent several minutes staring down at the little thing, her expression serene and happy, despite the exhaustion.

"He looks like an old man," Jessie said observantly, her nose wrinkled.

Kitty giggled, and smiled at Jessie, eyes sparkling like sapphires just as they always had.

"I'll be close by if you need me," the nurse said and promptly left them in the room.

Remy felt strange standing there. Kitty and Jessie almost seemed like family, and with the new baby it almost seemed like a complete set. All that was missing was a father.

Kitty stroked the baby's soft cheek with the backs of her fingers, "I think he's beautiful..."

Emotion tugged at Remy every which way, he couldn't find anything to say. It seemed to him he should have had this experience seven years ago, and was robbed of it. If he hadn't, he might have been more responsive now.

"Would you like to hold him?" Kitty asked of Remy.

"I'd rather not," Remy said.

"Why not?" Kitty asked, she looked at him worriedly, then her expression changed, "oh..." she mouthed the word but the sound didn't come out. She chewed her lip "Jessie...could you go outside for a few moments, please?"

"But..." Jessie began.

"When you come back, I'll let you hold him, if you're careful," Kitty said, "Remy will let you know when to come back in."

"Okay!" Jessie agreed, excited simply at the prospect of getting to hold the baby.

Remy watched the child disappear and the door shut behind her, "she won't be strong enough to hold him."

"I'll help her," Kitty replied. "Remy...I'm worried about you..." she confessed honestly.

"Why me? You got your own things to worry about now, eighteen years of worries ahead of you, remember?" he shrugged, he walked over to the window and slipped his fingers between the slats of the vertical blinds so he could look outside. The sun had set and it was dark out again. The snow outside wasn't as thick as it was near the mansion, and was more like slush.

"Why did Jessie run away?" Kitty asked, she adjust the blankets on the baby a little more so he'd be warmer.

"I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Remy...please..." Kitty said, "I've been torturing myself about it all day since Jean told me this morning...I need to know what happened."

Remy sighed, "she heard me say something she shouldn't have heard and she took off. End of story."

Kitty patted the edge of the bed beside her for him to come sit. He did so, but wouldn't look at the baby now, and she could see the bitter memories stirring in his eyes. "What did she hear?"

"I guess...she heard me say something about her reminding me too much of Gabrielle...and she didn't want to be the cause of my pain. So she took off. But no harm done, I found her and she's fine. I'm fine. We're _both _fine."

"But are you?" Kitty asked, she looked at him, "because...you don't look it. You look like you've had a rough night, your eyes are puffy, you haven't shaved in days..."

"When I say I'm fine, just take it as what I say," Remy said irritably.

Kitty sighed and looked down at the baby, "If things were so bad...if you felt so hurt over being with Jessie...why didn't you just _tell _me?"

"I tried, petit. I tried so many times," Remy replied, "but...you were so adamant that me and Jessie spend time together."

She seemed regretful, "yes...I was..." she admitted, "but...I had my reasons."

"I think I understand your reasons..." Remy admitted. "Rogue figured it out."

"She did?" Kitty seemed surprised.

"She thinks maybe that you saw a kid without a father and a father without a kid...and figured maybe they should be put together to try and compensate for what the other is missing..."

"No...it's not about that..." Kitty sighed, "well...it is kind of..."

"Thing is, it still...it hurts...it's...killing me."

"You need to get over it, and fast, Remy," Kitty looked at him, "I mean it..."

He got up and paced back to the window, he wrung his hands angrily at the air, "don't you think I know I should just stop agonizing over the past and get on with my life...?" he spun around and looked at her. "Don't you think I _want_ to get over it?"

Kitty looked at him, her expression pained.

"I can't do this anymore, Kitty. I accepted responsibility while you're gone from the mansion, but when I get back...you need to find someone else to look after her when you can't...I just can't do it anymore."

"Why?" Kitty demanded, upset. The baby whimpered in her arms and she soothed him gently.

"Because I just can't."

"Because you're afraid to get close?"

"No! I just..." he frowned and tried to focus on how he could express himself without letting too much emotion out. He'd cried too much in the past few days and he wasn't about to do it again.

"I need an explanation," Kitty said quietly. He didn't know why she wanted to argue about this now when she seemed barely strong enough to stay awake.

"Fine. You know what it is?" he demanded. "I can't be with Jessie without feeling like I'm betraying my own daughter's memory. I look at Jessie and I spend time with her and it feels kind of nice, and then I realise it _should_ have been Gabrielle and me sharing that time."

Kitty stammered, "but...but Remy..."

"No. Don't say anything," he raised his hand and gestured for her to be silent. "You can't possibly understand."

"That kid _needs_ you, Remy..." Kitty swallowed the lump in her throat. She seemed to have something she wanted to say but was struggling to get it out.

"No she doesn't," Remy hissed, "she needs you, not me."

"But..."

"But what?!" he nearly yelled, then remembering the tiny baby in Kitty's arms, he caught himself and lowered his voice. He still knew the look in his eyes probably spoke the volumes his voice yearned to scream at her right that second.

Kitty stammered, she looked all around the room as if searching for an escape.

"You have no argument to this," Remy said, he tried to calm himself down, "You can't fight me on this because you know I'm right...you know my reasons are valid."

"Okay, I'll admit it. They're totally valid," Kitty agreed, "but so are mine."

"How can we _both_ be in the right, here?"

"Remy...there's, like, something you don't know about Jessie..." Kitty sighed. "It's just...it's so hard to find a way to explain it."

"What can there be to explain?"

"You and her...you have this bond. And it goes deeper than anything she has with anyone else in the mansion. Even deeper than the bond she had with me."

"But we hardly know each other," he pointed out.

"It's not just familiarity, Remy. Surely you feel it when you look at her..."

"What are you talking about?"

Kitty sighed, "don't you think there's a _reason_ you think about your daughter every time you're with Jessie?"

"Guilt," he answered honestly. "Plain simple guilt. Overcompensating for what I lost, I guess?" he shrugged.

"No...God, think, Remy," Kitty frowned, "what do you feel?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. You tell me what I'm feeling then, since you're such an expert," he glumly said, he sat on the bottom of the bed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his long leather coat.

"Parental Instinct?"

Remy had been looking to the floor, absently noting a crack across the tiles. But her words made him stop. He was still for a time, then he turned to her, he wanted to ask her how she knew what he hadn't even recognised up until she'd said it.

"You think I haven't seen it?" Kitty asked, "the way you came in holding her hand? The way you carried her into the mansion after taking her out for ice cream? God, even the way you speak to her in that voice...so gentle..."

He watched Kitty, as she spoke she was watching her baby in an almost dreamy way, she had a finger in his tiny left hand. It was then he realised there was a tear sliding down her face. "You have parental instinct for Jessie. And that's perfectly normal."

"No...it's not, it's not normal to have parental instinct over a child that isn't even mine!"

Kitty's eyes never left Caleb, she was staring at his tiny fingers, her voice was distressed even in it's whispering softness, "But—"

Remy sighed, "Look, I need to get out of here. I'll talk to you later, I'm sorry."


	5. Chapter 5 What Could Be So Bad?

**Chapter 5 – What Could Be So Bad?**

He slipped the coins into the hospital waiting room vending machine with a heavy sigh, and he chose the option for plain black coffee, no sugars. He needed something strong and bitter, something horribly distracting, and hospital coffee would do.

"What the hell happened in there?" he heard Rogue ask at his back. She and Remy were the only ones in the waiting room, everyone else had gone into Kitty's private room to see her and the baby, even Jessie had gone in with them.

"Nothing happened in there, nothing at all, nope, not a thing," he said quickly, he slammed the button when nothing apparently seemed to be working. The coffee machine hissed and a cup dropped down and black steaming liquid began to drip quickly down into it.

"Then why do you look tense?" Rogue asked, she touched his back tenderly, to which he shrugged out of the reach of her touch, grabbed his coffee and headed for the nearest chair, he sat down and stared into the black liquid.

"I'm not tense, I'm just tired," he said.

"You came out of there looking...mad," Rogue pointed out, "did you two fight?"

"No," Remy sipped the coffee, it scalded both his tongue and his lips but he really didn't care. He stared around the waiting room, a small tree stood on a coffee table, coloured fairy lights twinkling, making the tinsel shimmer. Signs with 'Merry Christmas' dangled from the walls, and above the door into the corridor. He felt those signs almost seemed to be mocking him.

_Merry Christmas, my fucking ass,_ he thought angrily.

"What's wrong, sugar?" Rogue asked softly, she slipped into the chair beside him, she placed a hand on his arm, fingers caressing lightly.

"Nothing is wrong, I told you, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine..."

He turned and looked at her, he swept his long brown hair away from his face with a resigning sigh, "Chere, answer me a question – and I want it honestly, no lies."

"Okay," she agreed solemnly.

"If things were different between you and me, and our relationship was...as normal as Jean and Scott's for example..." he began.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"If it were...would you have...had children with me? Am I the type of person you think you would _want_ fathering your kids?"

She was surprised by the question, he saw in her eyes. She looked away, trying to process the question. He could tell the question hurt her, as the likelihood of their being able to conceive and her safely deliver a child was very slim. But she considered it, and then met his eyes once again. "I think...if things were different, we'd have probably had kids a long time ago...and I...wouldn't want anyone else fathering my kids _except_ you."

He brooded on this, it was the answer he wanted and yet, it did him no good to know of it.

"Remy...why are you asking this? This isn't some kind of plan for the future is it?" she asked, "because...we know our future together is pretty...limited. You know things probably _aren't_ going to change..."

"I know it," he sipped the coffee, "I swear, the future being limited is not a problem and never will be..."

"Okay," Rogue nodded, she paused, "Y'know...it's supposed to be the women who get broody when someone has a kid, not the men..." she nudged him.

"I'm not broody. I've just had a hell of a month," he sighed, "I'm gonna go back to the mansion," he decided, "I have shit to wrap up – you know me, I leave everything until the damn last minute..."

"Need me to go with you?" she asked. Her concern was reassuring, but he felt her watchful eye would be too much to bear right now. He had to refuse.

"I need some time alone, Chere," Remy put the coffee down on the table near his chair and he stood up, "Make sure Jessie gets home safely. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

She nodded, although in her eyes he saw concern. He touched her shoulder, "don't worry 'bout me, cherie, I'll be fine," he promised, and gave her a very weak smile. With that, he left her sitting in the waiting room alone.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Rogue made herself one of the last to go see Kitty and baby Caleb. When she entered the private room, Kitty looked almost asleep, the baby still in her arms. Rogue smiled and approached, "hi," she said quietly, as to not to disturb the sleeping baby.

Kitty smiled back, her expression half between exhausted and delirious. "Hey."

"He's beautiful," Rogue said, peering over at the sleeping child, so small and fragile, just like Kitty seemed right at that moment.

"Want to hold him?" Kitty asked.

"No...not a safe idea," Rogue said, "Remy always reminds me I don't know my strength..." she reminded, "and he's so tiny and breakable..."

Kitty nodded, "alright," she stroked the baby's cheek with the backs of her fingers, "God, I can't believe I have one of these now..." she smirked, "my own personal shit and puke machine."

Rogue sat at the bottom of the bed, her feet dangling off the end. She wanted to gush over the baby, she did want to hold him and stroke his cheek and impressive head of brown hair. But part of her told her it would be too painful, that holding that baby would only make her want one, and being broody – especially considering Remy's strange behaviour in the waiting room – wasn't the best situation to be in.

Rogue tried to come up with a way to change the subject, even if she was happy for her friend and the birth of Caleb, "did Remy seem...weird...when he came in here to see you?"

"Not at first," the smaller girl sighed, she chewed her lip thoughtfully, "he's...troubled, I guess."

"Is this because of Jessie...or something else?"

"He's having a rough time with everything right now, I think," Kitty confessed, "with Jessie, with that wound on his chest, trying to adjust back to being here, being with you...I think the strain is just getting to him."

"He was askin' questions about havin' babies...kind of threw me for a loop just a lil' bit," Rogue confessed.

Kitty seemed troubled with this, she looked away, her eyes squinting as she thought about it.

"What?"

"Nothing," Kitty shook her head, "nothing at all, just tired..." she rubbed her head.

"I'm sorry to be buggin' ya with all these questions about Remy...I know you're tired and probably don't want to think about it...especially since you just had a baby," Rogue began to stand.

"No..." Kitty said, she frowned, "I want to know what's going on...because I wasn't there yesterday when Jessie went missing – I don't know what happened, and Jean knew barely anything. You know Remy better than I do, he must have said _something_ about why."

Rogue sat back down again, "all I know is...he felt incredibly guilty she ran away. You left him in charge, I went to go do some laundry and when I got outside, Remy was sittin' getting drunk on top of those painkillers Hank has him on."

Kitty gaped, "I left him in charge and he was getting drunk?!" she asked loudly. The baby in her arms stirred and she whispered curse words under her breath while trying to soothe him back into sleep before he started crying.

"Yes," Rogue replied quietly, "Ororo came and told us Jessie was missing so Remy went looking, he found her apparently on the wall at the southern border of the estate – she'd got stuck realising there was no where to go on the other side and kinda panicked I can only guess. When I got there to get both of them, they were both in tears, and he wouldn't say why, he's been...distant though, since."

"Distant?"

"Yeah, and doing a lot of bringing up the irrelevant past, which you know is his speciality when he's depressed," Rogue pointed out.

"Yeah," Kitty nodded. "What did he try to bring up this time?"

"I dunno, marriage I guess," Rogue sighed, "I guess he's never quite forgiven me for turning him down in Las Vegas."

Kitty paused to think about this, "Rogue...seriously...why _did_ you turn him down?"

"Now you sound just as crazy as he does," Rogue commented coldly, "he tried to plan my whole _future_ for me, remember? Where I'd live, when we were getting married and where..."

"That's kinda romantic in a way," Kitty said, "I mean...I agree, you should have been consulted about everything, but...gotta give him credit, it's romantic."

"Whatever."

"If he had done it all by the book, would you have said yes?"

"No," Rogue folded her arms, "What's the point in getting married? We can't even _kiss._ What the hell would we do on the honeymoon? Lie in bed fully clothed and just talk?"

"You were engaged to him once," Kitty pointed out.

"Yeah, but we were young. Marriage was _so_ out of the question, it wasn't even up for discussion. I was seventeen – I didn't have to worry about when he was going to want to get married back then. Now I just think an engagement would make him want to rush something that we're really not ready for."

"Y'know...if I loved someone as much as you say you love Remy, I'd have jumped at the chance to be married to him, so I had him forever..." she paused, "god, if Piotr had proposed to me in the way Remy did, I'd have leapt into his arms."

Rogue was quiet, expression sullen.

Kitty spoke with soft quiet wonder, "What could be so bad about being married to Remy LeBeau?"

She had no answer, she wasn't sure if there was one.


	6. Chapter 6 Under the Tree

**Chapter 6 – Under the Tree**

He placed the final present under the large tree in the foyer, sliding it beside all the others so that it made a perfect picture fit for a Christmas card. His hands were dotted with tiny pinprick sized pieces of glitter, and in the flickering lights from the tree they glittered. The foyer was almost in darkness save the Christmas lights, it was past midnight and he'd finally finished all his wrapping – thanks to procrastination with a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Remy gave a sigh and sat folded legged at the bottom of the tree, he examined each decoration from where he was, each sparkling crystal icicle, the tiny apples that seemed frosted with dew. Tinsel draped and tangled, dripping like dewy spiderwebs across the dark green pine. The smells of fruits and spices from a cake Jean had baked in the kitchen hours earlier still lingered in the halls, reminding him of Christmas dinner in the rarely used mansion formal dining room.

Distant soft piano notes and male vocals of 'I'll be home for Christmas' drifted from a place unknown inside the mansion. Under other circumstances, he might have felt warm, and at home there, but he felt uneasy and alone sitting there under the tree beside all the presents.

Nostalgically, he tried to remember there ever being a good Christmas in his life, but had a hard time coming up with at least one. If he had to pinpoint any Christmas, it would be the Christmas of Rogue's sixteenth year, when she'd given him the silver tobacco case. The night Professor Xavier took them out to dinner at Paris Avec L'amor for Christmas Eve. He felt almost sad this was the best Christmas he could remember, every Christmas of his childhood was spent with very little spirit. His father was always too busy doing something, and his sister was off doing her own thing. He couldn't remember Christmas trees, although he was sure there must have been one or two.

_What would Christmas have been like if Gabrielle had survived?_ He wondered. He had wondered more than once, but right now seemed like the perfect time to dwell on it, when he was totally alone, and didn't have to feel guilty about thinking of it. He wondered what the first gift he ever bought his daughter would have been. What gifts he'd have bought her now, had she lived?

_Probably the same thing I got Jessie,_ he thought sombrely.

He felt two arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, and he breathed into smell Rogue's perfume, violets and jasmine drifting into the air to mix with spices and Christmas tree pine. He leaned back a little, the softness of her bust pillowing his shoulders.

"You smell boozy," she said, breathing in his scent.

"Had a lil' good ol' Jack," he said, a slight slur in his voice. "I didn't think anyone would mind – I was in my room, alone, and it's late. I only wanted to come down and bring the presents, then I was going to go to bed," he explained. "Least 'til you arrived."

Rogue exhaled softly, and her breath tickled his ear and stirred his hair, "you okay now?"

"I'm okay," he promised. "Everyone gets blue around the holidays, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she agreed, "I guess that's true. I just wish...I could make you feel better."

"You can't make me feel better. It's just something I need to get over on my own."

"You're not alone."

"Sometimes I feel that way still," he confessed, "I know it's far from the truth, I got you and Kitty...I'm far from alone...but..."

"I know," she hushed him, she stroked his hair back from his face, the soft cotton of her gloves was soothing, and smelled like spices, he wondered if she'd helped Jean in the kitchen.

"You smell...good...spicy," he held her hand near his face and breathed in the aroma.

"I was helping Jean bake the Christmas cake for tomorrow," she explained.

He turned around in her arms, sliding his arm around her waist, he let his cheek rest upon her chest so he could listen to the beat of her heart. She seemed surprised at this, but still held him, and remained quiet for a time.

"It's Christmas morning, you know," she said softly.

"Yeah," he sighed, "and in eight hours or so this place will be chaos."

"Always is," Rogue rubbed his back.

"Do you want to open your present now?"

"I already know what it is," she reminded, "so I'll wait til tomorrow and pretend I forgot so I can be surprised..." she smirked.

He leaned up to breathe in the scent from her neck, the perfume, those sweet high notes of violets left him feeling slightly overwhelmed, his lips were close to her neck and she tilted herself away.

"Careful," she whispered, "I don't want any accidents."

"Our whole relationship is an accident. You still welcome that into your life with open arms," he reminded, he sat up straight. "It's time you take the gloves off, Chere."

Her green eyes were quizzical.

"Take them off..." he instructed.

"No..." she shook her head, "not now. Not yet."

"Yes..." he nodded.

"You're drunk, and you don't know what you're asking..." she pointed out.

"Or maybe I'm just sure of something."

"Sure of what? That you want to die?"

He grabbed her wrist and tugged her cotton glove off with ease and tossed it aside out of reach. "I want this...I have...an instinct."

"Your instincts are wrong," She tugged her wrist away from him, "it's not going to work, Remy."

"Don't you want it to work?" Remy asked, "don't you want this as much as I do?"

She looked away, "Of course I want this. But what I don't want is to hurt you..."

Remy looked at her and held his hand out to her, "then concentrate..."

"Can't we do this another time?" Rogue asked, her expression full of fear and concern. She was looking at him as if he appeared to be quite mad. He wondered perhaps if he actually might be. He knew the risks well enough, after all.

"It's Christmas. Just do this with me, it's all I'm asking."

She sighed, "what am I supposed to do."

"I'm not sure...clear your mind, clear it of all worries...and touch me...and focus on wanting to feel it..." he held his hand to her, "please..."

Rogue shook her head, "No, it won't work."

"Just try it...we'll never know if you won't give it a chance."

"Okay, fine..." she closed her eyes, "I'm...clearing my mind...clearing it of all worries...clearing it of everything...focusing on wanting you..."

"Stop talking and just touch me."

She held her hand out to him, her bare fingers trembling as they dangled above his open hand. Her breathing was suddenly rapid, she was terrified, terrified that she would hurt him, perhaps kill him, if she wasn't careful.

"Relax...you can't hurt me..." he promised, "if you absorb me, it'll only be a little...I know how to pull away..." he reminded. "So do you..."

"Okay," she whispered.

He raised his hand up, their fingertips brushed against each others, just briefly, for him to feel that sudden jolt like he was being sucked inside out. He yanked his hand away from her, he sucked in a breath, "okay...uhm...try again."

"I told you this wouldn't work..." she said, she frowned, obviously some of his memories or thoughts had slipped into her, and they were perhaps darker than she might have realised.

"It's okay," he said reassuringly, "we need to take this in steps..." he held his hand out to her, "clear your mind and focus. Don't worry about hurting me, you could never hurt me..." he spoke in a soft soothing voice, he kept his eyes on hers, "look into my eyes, and focus on nothin' else."

She swallowed nervously, and met his eyes, gazing deeply.

He moved his hand towards hers slowly, carefully, not watching it, not watching for her reaction, just keeping his eyes on hers all the while, trying to clear his mind of any worries just as she was. Instead of brushing his fingertips against hers, he decided to try for more, he pushed his entire hand palm against hers and he clasped her hand hard so she could not pull it away, he kept his eyes on hers, scared to blink, scared in case it broke her concentration.

She started gasping, her eyes blinking, she tugged her hand, "REMY! STOP IT!"

He didn't understand what she meant at first, because he felt virtually nothing. But then he followed her gaze of shock and panic to their clasped hands, his hand was omitting sparks, flickering, tiny little forks of electricity darting up and down the protruding veins in his hand and lighting up under his skin.

It was hurting her, she was trembling, trying to cry out, but it seemed to only be getting stronger. He let go and yanked his hand from hers, he let out a startled cry, and when his hand was free of hers, the sparking stopped, the tiny little veins of energy seemed to disappear. It was almost as if they had never been there at all.

"Oh man..." he whispered.

Rogue held her wrist, hand apparently throbbing, "you electrocuted me..."

"I...I didn't mean to..." he looked at his hand, he was about to say something else, then paused, he looked at his hand, then to hers. Hers definitely wasn't sparking, nor was it showing any signs of the power that had come only from his. But it _should_ have. "Rogue..." he whispered.

"What...?" she shook her hand vigorously as if trying to shake some kind of feeling into it or the pain out of it. Her eyes were wide with surprise and agony.

He let out a laugh of disbelief, "You didn't absorb my powers..."

The End (mwahahah!!!!!!! Or is it? Dun dun Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuunn).

(Authors Note: this one took a little bit longer than the other ones did (with the exception of a three or four year break, lol. And ooooh yay, Kitty finally had her baby!)


End file.
